Machine Gun Kelly
by NCR Ranger
Summary: There's no fury like an angry woman with an automatic weapon.
1. Chapter 1

1200 hours, local clock

September 12th, 2557

Outer Colony world of New Harmony

Anti-Innsurectionist operation. Codename:HOUSECLEANER

* * *

Puffs of cold, powdery sand were kicking up a half-second, and barely an inch, apart as 7.62mm bullets slammed into the ground. They were coming in fast, both as volleys, and ony by one. Alltogether, they were raising a steady racket of_ whp, whp, whp_, as they relentlessly pelted the ground, sending vibrations rippling through them.

_whmp, whmp whmp !_

_chk chk chk !_

Hunkered at the bottom of the shallow furrow trench, Corporal David Cohen felt more than he heard the incoming rounds striking home. He knew there could only be a foot or so, at most, between him and them. The weight of fire was driving vibrations all the way through him, and especially his head. It was firmly reminding him that he was pinned down as tightly and as securedly as a butterfly on an entomologist's wall display.

His teeth remained tightly gritted, but not solely because of the barrage that was drowning out most surrounding sounds, and forcing him to basically live in this primitive trench. He was mad, and at himself. His current predicament was his own fault. Stuck in a _hole_ in the ground, completely boxed in by automatic fire that had him firmly bracketed.

His legs already had cramps in them from being bent so tight. Adrenaline had taken hold in his veins, which was tingling his spine fiercely, but also doing its job of keeping him alert. If he didn't stay focused and keep it together, that would result in certain death.

_What did you expect from the Innsurectionists- _**a red carpet with white roses and brunette ladies**_ ?!__  
_

_Oh sure. Fetch my slippers too, while you're at it. And get me my breakfast in bed !_

Those were not even the words of any of his instructors ( none of whom were quite as sadistic as USMC DI's of course ). David was automatically telling himself that. He should've anticipated this. An actual rookie was _exactly_ the kind of person who'd stumble into this kind of situation, or at least most likely to. Bad calls could be made by anyone, he knew, but that didn't help much.

_We thought we could flank the hill ! Thought going around its sides would be better- that was such a bad idea. _

_Great, great, now look where we are. These Innsurectionists are _loaded down _with ammo !  
_

_Well, at least I didn't come from living on a farm. That's me, the city kid_

He lifted his head, and took a glance at the faces of the two other soldiers who were hunkered here with him- PFC Jason Kimble, and Lance Corporal Todd Dallas, both of who were huddled about a yard away along the trench. They looked a lot like David: both of them were coated from end to end with dust and grit.

Their faces reminded David of what he knew he was feeling right now- a strange, strong mix of fear, determination, and concentration. He could spot all 3 of those in their expressions, but it didn't surprise him. It wasn't psychoanalysis- they were squadmates. It wasn't _that_ hard to do. You lived and fought with the same guys for long enough, that became second nature.

_Good, guys. At least I didn't doom myself alone._

_Great, this is like WW1. At the Somme._

_" _Got any ideas ?! ", yelled Dallas. He had his BR55HB grasped in both hands, its stock into his shoulder as if ready to stand.

_chkchkchkchkchkchk !_

The enemy HMG batteries wouldn't stop. They were sweeping the trench's top, methodically back and forth. The tracer rounds left white and orange streaks as they whipped past.

" That's a negative ! ". Kimble thumbed the selector switch on his MA5D, setting it to full auto. " Aside from staying put ! "

" Yeah. " Dallas bit his lower lip. " Pinned the heck down."

Which was exactly what they'd _been_ doing- living pinned for the past 5 minutes, even thought it didn't seem anywhere near that short. All of them knew it. In here, they were in solid cover, out of the firing arc of the enemy. But, the moment they left it, that would all change in a hurry.

Trouble was, leaving it was _exactly_ what they needed to change their current situation. It was a deadlock scenario; a maze with a lot of corners, but no exits.

_How do we get out of this ? Take our chances ? Or, sit here and hope for a miracle ?_

" Listen up, both of you ! "

_We've got to take action. Maybe if we go further along the trench, we'll find a way that leads up and out. I don't know, but that's all I've got._

David checked that his M395 DMR was off its safety, then called on the other two again, pointing for emphasis. " Stay on my six, and follow me this way ! "

He squeezed past them, putting himself in the lead postion.

" Follow the trench ! Stay. Low ! Understand ?! "

The others blinked, but they quickly then nodded.

" Let's go ! "

_This was it, _Cohen thought, as they formed up. _We're doing this _now._ I won't leave them here. If we don't move, the enemy'll rush us. Drop grenades into the trench- I won't let that happen  
_

_We can't afford to not take action !_

" Ready ?! "

" Ready ! ", they both responded.

But, right as they were about to get going-

" Corporal ! You hear that ?! ", yelled Dallas.

" Hear what ?! ", Kimble scraped away some sand that had settled and caked over his face. " What's-"

" Shhh ! "

David had felt it too.

Heavy, thudding vibrations, _much_ heavier than the ones caused by the impacting bullets, were pulsing through the ground- like something that was immensely heavy, at least over a ton- was approaching at high speed. He couldn't be sure of anything else, such as _how_ far away it was, but there was defintely something, or some_one_, coming in hot.

_What the heck- ?!_

Some hidden instinct had David suspecting that it might be _Jiralhane_ ( Brutes ). The thought alone gave him a corrosive jolt of fear and anger: He'd seen personally what the towering, gorillia-esque aliens had done to civillians on Draco III, using their Spike-Rifles with those vicious cresent shaped blades. If it _was_ Brutes, he automatically swore that he and his squad would not be taken alive.

David's righr hand tighted around what it was holding; his reflex response to feeling enraged. The machine guns endlessly began again, raking and raking the top of the trench.

_Monsters_

_That's exactly what they are. They cut everyone and everything that gets anywhere near them_

But everything was happening too fast for him to communicate any of this to the others, wether they were thinking the same thing or not. They had to extract themselves from this situation before it got any worse than it already was- which was already bad enough for anyone in the infrantry. There were no tanks, or air assets; they were on their own.

If they could get out before either the Innsurectionists, or who/what was closing in stormed the trench, then they had a better chance-

A shadow swept over him. There was a rush of air, as if something that was as heavy as a Jiralhane has soared overhead. By pure reflex, he glanced up-

-and saw someone, clearly _not_ a Jiralhane, even the scant few seconds he had to look, _leaping_ like an Olympic athlete over the trench. Landing with a industrially heavy thud on the other side, the someone in question raced on past David's postion.

Another jolt of adrenaline shot through him, but there wasn't any fear mixed with it now. Because he knew _exactly_ what he'd seen. There was only one thing it could be:

A _Spartan_ had arrived.

Was he/she a II, or a III ? Didn't matter.

_A Spartan is here ?! _

_Thank God- he sent a Spartan for us !_

* * *

" A **Spartan** is here ! "

David' throat was lined with dust enough as it was, and yelling loud didn't help that stinging, scrubbed raw feeling. Much of his body was aching and sore; it_ hurt_ in most places. What he could certianly use as much as air to breathe, was somewhere to lie down and get some sleep- and then cool drink of water. That's all.

But, right at the moment, he was pinned down beneath a deluge of enemy fire, about to execute a highly risky plan to get himself extracted from it, and he had two other men who were suborninate to him that he had to keep track of as well. In these circumstances, he needed something other than sleep or water.

And a Spartan fit the bill quite well.

" _Spartan on the field_ ! ", he called again, twisting around to face the others. Thier eyebrows had shot up with amazement and surprise.

" Did you see that ?! "

" I think so- maybe ! ", Dallas had his back against the trench's wall, pointing his weapon up at the edge of it. " Saw something blue ! Brutes don't wear blue ! "

" Not that we know. You sure ?! " . Kimble was still staying low, but he sounded cautiously optimistic, and also looking up toward the edge of the trench.

But David was already scrambling up and over that edge, digging his gloved hands and the toes of his boots into the gound. He _had_ to get a better look at what had'd gone by seconds ago.

" Stay put ! ", he ordered. " Wait for _my_ go ! "

" Boss ?! "

One of them was calling to him, but he didn't catch which one; he was already mostly out of the trench by then.

Hugging the deck, he scanned the whole area head of him as quickly as he could.

_God- !_

In the span of a few seconds, he found something amazing in front of him.

The Spartan was holding postion a few yards away. At that distance, he/she was even taller than David thought one would be in person: at_ least_ 7ft. So tall, a shadow extended behind.

The towering warrior was clad in a full suit of powered, cobalt colored armor. Its plates glinted in the sun, showing off all their wildly clawed scratches, and burn marks. It looked as solid and durable as _volcanic rock_.

_That's-_

But, all of that was topped by what the Spartan was _doing. _The giant( ess ? ) had some kind of shield mounted on one arm, and brandishing an MA37 with the other !

The sheild was a giant rectangle of pure energy, simmering a powerfully vibrant blue, a few shades lighter than the armor.

And the incoming bullets were sparking off it ! Ricochetting, flying off to the left and right, leaving ripples on the shield like raindrops hitting a lake. So many of them were hitting, that the ripples were overlapping each other. But, the shield was holding ! The force being put on it must've been massive, but it was holding.

And the Spartan, began to move forward then. Not quickly, but not slowly, either. _Delibertely_, was a better word for it. Step by step, without pausing in stride, the Spartan advanced. It seemed as steady a pace as someone taking a Sunday hike at national park.

_With so much incoming ?! How can any of them do-_

David hadn't witnessed anything like this. _Ever. _He'd been fighting the Covenant for years, but he hadn't experienced anything like this before. He couldn't think of anything to say.

Abruptly, the Spartan glanced over his/her shoulder at him, revealing the front of his/her helmet to be a bronzed, burnt orange color. From out of that helmet, someone spoke:

As things turned out, the Spartan soldier _was_ a woman ! With a British accent.

_This gal is taking **all** the heat !_

And what she had to say was right to the point:

" **Stay behind me ! Come on !** "


	2. Our Guardian Angel

David Cohen didn't expect to _ever_ watch a legend in action._ Ever._

He _knew_ about them, at least, of course. He knew what counted as legend. Someone who did extraordinary things, against cheaply bad odds, and either succeeded, or went down bravely.

As a child, growing up in the gargantuan, neon light soaked Ultra-city of New Dallas ( with over 20 million inhabitants, it earned the name _Ultra_-city to a T ) back on Earth, he'd listened to his mother and father tell him stories of men and women from over a thousand years ago doing things that defintely made them legends: the tale of how the heavily armored, armed to the teeth _giant_ named Goliath had been killed by a _boy_ ( David ! Another one, but even so ) who only had a _slingshot_ as a weapon. Or, the story of the Chinese peasant girl Mulan, who had taken the place of her aging father in the Chinese army, and gone off to fight one of the most ruthless fighting armies in all of human history- the Mongol Horde- so her old dad wouldn't have to.

David heard about legends who made a name for themselves outside of combat as well: Hugh Glass, who'd gotten shot in the lower torso while hunting in the Rocky Mountains, and had dragged himself ( often literally ) for over a dozen miles while slowly freezing and starving to death to reach help. Or Ernest Shakelton, who'd led his team of explorers back to civilization, without losing _any_ of them, after their ship was destroyed in the most inhospitable and treacherous region on planet Earth- Antartica.

All of them: legends.

Whenever David had heard about any of them, and when he'd later gone out and read up on them, he'd been facinated. All of those individuals had done something that probbably even _they_ didn't think they could do. But, that was what _extra_ordinary was all about, wasn't it ? _Ordinary_ folks, doing something amazing. Even if it was only once, that didn't matter. You could still hear about it, long, long after them.

Now, _here_, on the battlefields of New Harmony, he was watching a legend.

Well, what else did you call it when someone could _block heavy machine gun fire_, with a glowing shield made of _pure energy ? This _was what Spartans could do ?!

**Look**_ at her ! Those bullets would cut me in two like plasma through tissue, but she's shrugging them off !_

_God, I- what am I doing ?! She said follow her ! Got to get to it !_

UNSC soldiers were hardy fighters; David wasn't too tired to move yet. He rose partially to a stand. His legs hurt from being crouched in that trench, but he ignored it. Made himself ignore it. That trivial pain had to wait.

Turning his head to the right, he saw Kimble and Dallas had hauled themselves out of the trench. They'd knelt close by, keeping themselves low. That was unnecessary, of course.

The Spartan was still blocking all the incoming. Still leading the charge.

" Shake it off ! We're pushing up, _now_ ! ", he barked at the others, pointing at the armored woman plowing into the maelstrom of bullets.

If there was ever a moment to have thier heads fully in the game, it _was_ now. They'd come way too far to waste this chance to win this fight and live. David wouldn't let them.

" Yes- yes _sir_ ! ", Kimble responded. He was staring at the Spartan, grasping his rifle, sounding and looking like he'd seen a Heaven-sent angel.

" On your lead, sir ! ", added Dallas. The third soldier checked his weapon once again, before glancing back up at the Spartan, and quietly murmuring something that sounded relegious.

_As ready as they'll ever be_, David thought. _Let's take the fight to the enemy, lads._

_" Go, go ! "._

He began to run forward, rifle pressed into his shoulder, attempting to catch up to the Spartan. She wasn't that far ahead of them, but her walk was as fast as their run- they _had_ to keep pace.

_Oh, we will. We _**defintely** _will._

* * *

The Innsurectionists had begun to panic.

David could tell, even from as far back from their postion that he was. That shouldn't have been happening, tactically, given how strongly they were dug in: There were half a dozen nests of M247 machine guns arrayed along the slope of the hill, all of them well fortified with sandbags. The long, heavy barrels of the M247s poked out over the tops of the bags, and they were blazing bright orange with white in the center, spitting 7.62mm bullets downrange at over a thousand RPM ( rounds per minute ).

The sound of the automatic fire beat his ears like jet engines. There were so many bullets in the air, but none of them were hitting him, or his team. They were all bouncing off the Spartan's shield instead.

And _her_ bullets weren't missing their mark.

Brandishing the MA37 one handed ( which was impressive enough; those things weighed over 7 pounds even when empty ), the Spartan fired back at the enemy. Burst fire mode, of course, methodically focusing on and taking out one target, before moving on to another. The range to the hillside had narrowed enough so that David could observe the Innsurectionist soldiers scrambling around wildly behind their guns, reloading them and gesturing at the the oncoming armored giant.

They were scared. They obviously didn't get why the Spartan wouldn't go down. And _they_ were going down, fast. None got a chance to even begin to escape.

_Good. Be afaird, and you should be. _Now _you're all going to get what's coming to you !_

As they marched forward, sheltering beind the Spartan's shield, David called out to his squad, " They are near enough, gentlemen ! You may open fire ! "

" Engaging ! ", they yelled.

All 3 of them lined up shots as best they could, then pulled their triggers.

More of the enemy collapsed and died, toppling as the squad's own 7.62mm rounds ( or 9.5x40mm in the case of the BR55 ) punched through their lightweight outdated armor. The UNSC soldiers aimed sqaurely and as steadily as they could manage, for center mass, or the head. Anywhere that would inflict lethal damage.

One by one, Innsurectionists fatalites piled up.

_Eliminate the lot, and let God sort 'em out_

David had no love for Innsurectionists. One of them had killed his uncle and his cousin over ten years ago on Tribute, by detonating a bomb at a Jim Dandy restaruant. The resulting blast had killed dozens of locals- all snuffed out in a mad act of terrorism. That was a firecracker, though, compared to the attack they'd launched on Mamore in 2511: A nuclear weapon they set off there had anihilated over 2 _million_ on that planet.

The, the Innsurectionists had the gall to turn around play the wounded lamb. They stated and claimed the UNSC didn't care about them. Claimed _they_ were the enemy. With acts like what had happened on Tribute and Mamore becoming basically routine for them, David couldn't care less about what and who they said they were.

They were a threat to be eradicated. Wolves in human skin.

Dirt gave way beneath his boots, as he advanced. His rifle ran dry, so he swiftly ejected the spent magazine and swapped it for a fresh one. There was a pause in the firing on his left as Dallas did the same. He and Kimble were staying on his flanks, covering him and keeping pace.

They were good soldiers. David thanked God they were cut from sterner stuff.

Now, the Spartan and her impromptu entorouge were getting practiaclly on top of the enemy line. The incoming fire had slackened offOne of the enemy soldiers screamed something that would've made the most ornery Marine DI blush, then lobbed a grenade.

David's blood got a shot of adrenaline. He watched the deadly sphere fly.

" Frag ! ", he warned.

Dallas yelled something David didn't catch.

" Incoming- ! "

The Spartan spoke again- she hadn't after they'd begun pushing forward, but now she did again. And rightly so.

" _Stay. Put_ ! ", she shouted.

Stopping, she slammed the shield's lower edge into the ground. The grenade arced toward them-

Everthing slowed down-

\- and then the grenade detonated midair !

Right as it did, David heard a burst of MA37 fire. Immediately he knew what had gone down.

_She shot that frag out of the sky_ !? _What_ ?!

" Clear ! Push on ! ", the Spartan ordered.

She stormed on, and the UNSC soldiers couldn't do anything else but follow.

As if they'd have done anything less. The Innsurectionist postions were shattered by this point. All of the MG nests were silent, their crews spawled dead on or near their posts. The UNSC forces stood among the machine guns, looking for any survivors.

" Stay alert," ordered the Spartan. " Keep your weapons ready. "

Everyone scanned the area, anticipating one last Innsurectionist to attack them in a suicidal last ditch charge.

" Think we got 'em all. ", Dallas remarked.

" Hope so. ", Kimble brushed aside a spent cartridge with the toe of his boot.

There were none, though. Enemy dead lay scattered all over the place. Wisps of steam rose from the heated barrels of their abandoned heavy guns, and the scent of cordite was strong. The sun shone brightly overhead, without any clouds anywhere.

The Spartan turned her head back and forth, obviously using her superior sensor net to spot anything and/or anyone that might be hiding.

Nobody and nothing was.

_Its over. We did it ! We won._

Tension drained out of David. The battle was won, and all of them knew that now.

" Can you believe it. ", Kimble rubbed some of the dusty grime off his face with a badly worn glove. " _That_ was some heavy action. We actually had a Spartan on our side. "

" Yeah. But, we made it. They didn't. That's good enough for me. ", Dallas replied.

" A Spartan ! " . He shook his head, but smiled.

_ " Whew. We're alive. If it hadn't been for that Spartan- we wouldn't be here ", _David thought

With a sharp crackle, the Spartan shut off the shield, and slung her MA37.

She turned to face David, revealing the bright white painted number ' 087 ' on her chest armor plates. What kind of alloy said plates were made of, David couldn't guess.

" Well done, lads. ", the Spartan declared.

" The hill belongs to us. "

* * *

Pelicans were 20 mikes out.

Evidently, Spartans had a lot of pull when it came to getting things done out of the tangle of military chains of command. The Spartan woman had succsessfully called in a D79 Pelican dropship, and reported that it was well on its way to them.

The battle to subdue Innsurectionist forces on this world wasn't over yet, obviously, and David and his cohorts still had a role to play in it. The UNSC would stay comitted to the fight for as long as required. None of them had a problem with that, though.

_If a job's worth doing, its worth doing right_

In the interim, they could at least take a breather. Kimble and Dallas took some of the sandbags, and piled them to form mounds to lean against. They'd taken their helmets off, though they kept their weapons across their legs.

" Someone ought to thank her. ", Kimble remarked.

" Yeah, she deserves it. "

They kept looking over at the Spartan. David got why that was.

The soldier was awestruck at how _tall_ she was- _7 ft_, at least. He noticed before, obviously, but that had been back when the lead was flying. He hadn't gotten to really take in the difference , until now. The Spartan absolutely towered over him. He had to tip his head back a bit to look into that orange faceplate of hers.

_Wow. What an Amazon !  
_

The squad didn't _want_ to crowd around and do something like, well, mob her, but she was a bonna fide _Spartan_. A legend. A giantess who'd saved them with her glowing shield, and cleared a path for them to crack an utterly deadly enemy trap. None of them had watched a Spartan fight- and now that they had, they were absolutely awestruck.

" She did get us transport, too. " David observed.

_And** saved** us. Don't forget that._

He got up, and began to walk toward where she stood.

David had no idea who she was. Or _where_ she'd come from, or _anything_ about her. He knew squat and 0 about the Spartans, period. They were legends, and that's all he'd ever known about them. Even after today, when he'd seen one of them pull off something that would've put in her in a children's storybook for years and years, he still didn't.

" I- " He stood straighter, getting that sense of " knee high to a grasshopper. What was he suppsoed to say, anyway ?

_Best to be honest_

" Spartan-, Ma'am. That was a _heck_ of a thing back there. You and your rig saved us."

" And I have to ask: Who are you ? "

The looming giantess gazed down at him ( presumably, at least. It was hard to tell through the helmet ) for a moment.

Then, she depolarized her faceplate visor, allowing David to see her face.

His eyebrows went up with ( plesant ) surprise: Whoever this Spartan woman was, she was very pretty. David had seen his share of women in uniform, and it wasn't always so that he found one who pulled off looking feminine and like a soldier all at once.

This one did, though. So not only could she fight like an absolute _legend, _saving David and his boys in the process, but she was a looker too.

A real angel all around. God must've been looking out for the squad today.

And then the angel spoke to him.

" Petty Officer First Class, Kelly 087 ", she replied. " And I might have a suit of powered armor, but its nothing without someone wearing it. I am a soldier, like you. "

_ Oh, she's a humble one. Nice_

" Glad I could help you and your boys out. You kept it together back there. You should be proud of yourselves. ", Kelly added.

David smirked.

_We are. And we'll be giving thanks for the rest of our days that you stepped to the plate for us._

Today hadn't begun well at all, but it certainly wasn't ending that way.


End file.
